The heart pulses, of course. Openclosed openclosed. We start each morning in the sweetness that brings us both near to words we don't believe in. Perfect at the top of the list. It used to get better from there; these days things shift between us. There is a deep, deep brokenness between us. We are fighting it, hard. The heart pulses open. Closed. The counselor wants to know why we came back to each other. Soulmate is on that list. In the darkness I peel back another wall to find another secret: I am afraid of growing up. I am trying to throw my responsibilities onto him. He is afraid I cannot take responsibility for myself. I've almost never had to. Open.

Closed. But we fight it, hard. Take the scary step. I proposed to him four months ago now; still waiting for an answer. He is fighting it. She wants to know why he doesn't say yes. What if it happens again? Closedclosed closedclosed. I pace the empty house. But eventually morning comes, and each time it finds us curled together, whispering the words we don't believe in. Morning finds us, and some days it even gets better from there.